


Ten Minutes

by Tom_Tomorrow



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Big Sister Maggie Sawyer, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 17:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tom_Tomorrow/pseuds/Tom_Tomorrow
Summary: The detective looks down at her hands.At the dried crimson embedded in her nail beds.Stares long and hard at it, willing it to go away.To disappear.It doesn’t.





	Ten Minutes

 

Today started out good.

It started out great.

With Alex in her arms.

Laughing and joking and making popcorn on one of the rare occasions they both had the day off.

And now...

The detective looks down at her hands.

At the dried crimson embedded in her nail beds.

The remnants of crimson, she’d tried to stifle.

The remnants of crimson, she’d tried so desperately to wash away.

Maggie stares long and hard at it, willing it to go away. To disappear.

It doesn’t.

The communication device in her ear crackles back to life.

 

“You have ten minutes.”

 

Commander Pierson tells her over the coms. 

Ten minutes.

_ Ten minutes. _

The words make her queasy now.

Dark and foreboding.

She has to swallow hard to smother the feeling as she finds the words to rebut his command.

 

“Commander, with all due respect, I don't think going in guns blazing is the best way to help this situation. She isn’t a villain.”

 

The detective states, warily watching the task force gear up at the base site, a good kilometer away from their target,

 

“Detective Sawyer, America just watched its hero get shot on live television. I’m not gonna waste time trying to  _ talk _ , when our national treasure could be dead. And I’m certainly not going to be the one at the press conference saying that the reason it happened is because we were hesitant. We don’t play pansy like the National City's DEO, you’re lucky I’m giving you any time at all.”

 

His words are writhe with sexism and objectification and it speaks volumes about his perspective and character.  

Maggie wants to retort, shoot back something just as snarky, but she knows that, at least in some degree, he is right.

They don’t have a lot of room for error.

So, instead she swallows her words.

 

“Fine. Ten minutes.”

 

Her superior officer’s voice crackles over the comm once more.

 

“No more, no less.”

 

The communication link cuts off. 

Officer Davidson glances at her nervously.

 

“You sure you want to do this?”

 

He asks quietly.

She nods her affirmation.

 

“I’m sure it won’t come down to it.”

 

He says.

Maggie can see he doesn’t believe it.

…. …. …. …. ….

 

_ Alex’s phone is buzzing, vibrating itself off the living room table. _

 

_ “Alex, your phone is ringing!” _

 

_ Maggie calls from the comfort of her girlfriend’s couch. _

_ The taller brunette, having lost the bet on whose turn it was to make popcorn, had been banished to the kitchen to retrieve it.  _

 

_ “Who is it?” _

 

_ Maggie frowns leaning away from the couch and over the table to see the caller ID. _

 

_ “It’s Winn.” _

 

_ The detective states as the microwave dings off in the kitchen.  _

 

_ “Winn? Go ahead and answer. Tell him if it’s anything to do with the DEO, I’m on  _ **_my day off._ ** _ ” _

 

_ Alex stresses the last three words with excessive exaggeration as Maggie answers the phone. _

_ The quirky computer tech doesn't even give her time to say hello.  _

 

_ “Turn on the news.” _

 

_ He orders, lacking any of the lighthearted easygoingness that normally dominated his demeanor. _

_ Her heart sinks. _

_ And Alex’s easy smile shifts into one of contorted worry, when she steps back into living room to find the detective hastily flipping the channels to the news station. _

_ Maggie almost wishes she didn’t. _

 

**_AMERICA’S SYMBOL OF JUSTICE AND LIBERTY STRUCK DOWN._ ** __

 

_ The banner rolls across the screen as grainy video footage recounts the sequence of events. _

 

_ ~“Superman was making a public appearance at the grand opening of Metropolis’s newest park when an unknown gunman appeared to open fire.”~  _

 

_ The footage is unclear, the focus isn’t even on Superman when the first shot is fired, and all she can see is the crowd screaming as they flee the violence.  _

_ Shit. _

_ Shit. _

_ Alex grabs for the phone, popcorn going ignored, as she switches the phone to speaker.  _

 

_ “Did you see where he was shot?” _

 

_ Her girlfriend demands. _

_ Because God, if it was a kill shot. _

_ Clark hadn’t gotten up. Hadn’t even moved. That much she knew,   _

 

_ “I… no. I didn’t. I’m trying to get a hold of more footage.” _

 

_ Winn admits weakly. _

_ And from the way he says it, the detective doesn’t think the odds are good.  _

 

_ “I texted James, he’s on his way…”  _

 

_ A red banner flashing on the television, draws her attention away from the urgent conversation. _

 

~”- _ National City’s Supergirl has just appeared on the scene-” _

 

_ The camera footage swerves away from the reporter to get a better view of the scene. _

_ Taken from an obvious distance, it’s only enough to see the shape of Kara landing roughly on the stage. _

_ Firmly but softly shoving the officers away from her cousin’s fallen form. _

_ And as the blonde kneels down. Another shot rings out. _

_ It’s deafening. _

_ Maggie feels Alex stiffen next to her. _

_ On the television screen, there's a flash of red as Kara shoves the officers away. _

_ Then another gunshot echoes from the television. _

_ The video feed cuts out then.  _

_ Fades to black, just as the sound booms when the Kryptonian takes her cousin to the sky. _

 

…. … … … 

 

Much of the abandoned warehouse is empty, a labyrinth of twisting staircases.

Away from the public and off most maps, by all accounts would have a good place to hide out for awhile.

But Maggie still can’t wrap her mind around why Kara chose this, rather than the DEO or any of its accompanying safe houses.

Because as far as she can see, there’s nothing here remotely medical. 

And she knows, the world knows, that Clark obviously is injured. If not dead.

The gaping hole in the roof makes it easy to pinpoint the duo’s location.

And Davidson is at her six as they round the final corner and see her.  

Kara. 

The red sweep of cape cascading over the blonde's shoulders is unmistakable. 

Her super suit, still stained with concrete dust, specks of glinting green, and mottled red, glints darkly under the flickering rays of sunlight from the only opened window.

Kara tenses when they enter, but she doesn't turn around. 

Which tells Maggie that at the very least she recognizes that it's them, even when the tension could be cut with a knife. 

 

“Supergirl.”

 

Maggie whispers, inching further into the room.

Motioning for Davidson to stand back and wait at the entrance. 

And it's then that the detective sees him. 

Superman.  

Laid out on the couch. 

Pale and grey with faint lines of green tracing down into what is left of his super suit. 

It only takes a cursory glance to determine the mechanism of injury. 

Scatter bullets.

Small pieces of metal with devastating effects.

They detonated on impact, spraying shrapnel in every which direction. Including directly into the body. 

The evidence is in the tiny little holes that pepper his skin, the plethora of minuscule rips in his uniform, and in the crimson soaked neon beads that have begun to pile up on the floor. 

Kara doesn't answer her. Doesn't even flinch. 

Only the stuttered breathing of the Clark fills the strained silence that echoes throughout the room. 

 

“We were getting worried about you guys. Dropping off the grid like that.”

 

Maggie tries again, lowering her gun once she's determined there were no additional life threats. 

 

“Is she- Is she okay?”

 

Kara grinds out.

Words stilted and stiff. 

Maggie hears the barely constrained hysteria behind her words. 

And of course, Kara had known. 

Even if she had been off the grid the entire morning. 

The detective's eyes flit back toward the couch where the Man of Steel lays motionless. 

Nothing she can say in response to that question will make that fear go away.

 

… … …. 

 

_ They make it to the parking lot.  _

_ They make it all the way to the damn car. _

_ Until a man in a darkened ivy hoody steps in front of them. _

_ Directly into their paths.  _

 

_ “Are you Alexandra Danvers?” _

 

_ Maggie ignored him at first, moving to step around him.   _

_ Even when he’s shifty and nervous and guarded as hell. _

_ Because they have no time this bullshit. Not with the current emergency at hand. _

_ Alex steps around him too. Maggie isn’t even sure if her girlfriend entirely heard his request. _

 

_ “Excuse me. Excuse me! Agent Danvers!” _

 

_ Another beat passes. _

_ And Maggie wonders... How did he know Alex’s name? _

_ How did he know she worked with the DEO? _

_ She pauses, turns around. _

_ And suddenly he isn’t so innocent any more.  _

_ The moment the man points the gun on them could be described as a slow series of fast-but not quite so-scenes. _

_ She registers the glinting metal. _

_ Sees it. Recognizes for what it is. And is pulling out her own service weapon, but it’s already too late. _

_ Because the hooded man has already pulled the trigger. _

_ Firing two successive rounds point blank into her girlfriend. _

_ Into Alex who had been doing the same. _

_ Maggie blinks as Alex’s entire body recoils backwards. Flies back onto the concrete. Sprays crimson from two newly formed bullet wounds. _

_ Blinks as the man in the hoodie prepares to fire another shot, a look of twisted disgust in his gaze.  _

_ And finally her police instincts kick in.   _

_ The detective empties the remaining bullets in her clip into their assailant.  _

_ He’s dead before he even hits the ground.  _

_ But he’s the least of her concern.  _

 

_ “Alex? Alex!” _

 

_ … …. … _

 

Maggie blinks the memory away.

 

“Alex is… Alex is going to be fine, Kara. He got her twice, but you know how she is. She’ll be fine.”

 

Fine is stretching it. 

Alex Danvers is stubborn and will always be stubborn, but she also got shot.

In the knee and in the shoulder.

And the way she screamed…. 

She vividly remembers telling Alex after she’d gotten out of the brief surgery, that there would be very little she could do in the field with two fresh gunshot wounds.  

And subsequently watches the taller brunette give no shits and try to get off the bed anyway. 

Especially after the older Danvers sister was informed that Kara had never come back to DEO with Clark. 

Especially when they told her, that Kara was MIA.

She also remembers Alex curling into herself when the pain became too sharp to handle.

Remembers forcing her girlfriend back into the bed.

But she isn’t about to tell the blonde any of this. 

Yet, regardless of her omission, the tightness in Kara’s shoulders doesn't disappear. 

So Maggie rambles on, leaning on her negotiating skills as she tried to get the younger woman to be more open with her. 

 

“You weren't in your apartment or at Alex’s or any of the safe houses. You took out your tracker. The only thing that led us here was an anonymous tip.”

 

The detective trails off, urging the other woman to fill in the gaps.

Provide any sort of sane explanation of why she’s here watching her cousin bleed out on the couch versus having him treated by actual medical personnel. 

Instead, Kara's fingers curl into the wood of the table she’s propped on and the resulting splintering sound is reminiscent of nails to a chalkboard. 

Behind the detective, Davidson shifts uneasily on his feet. 

 

“She wasn’t supposed to get shot.”

 

The blonde whispers, more to herself than to the detective, as Maggie inches closer. 

The couch is thoroughly soaked with crimson.

Is he even alive?

And she has to squint hard to register any distinct chest rise and fall.

He's breathing. Slowly. Breaths far and few in between.

But breathing. 

Still, it doesn't look good. 

 

“Kara, he needs sun lamps. Why haven’t you taken him to the DEO?” 

 

Maggie questions.

And Kara's head, hidden underneath a curtain of golden blonde hair, shakes her refusal. 

 

“It isn’t safe.”

 

The blonde responds tightly. 

Not even bothering to hide the audible strain. 

And the detective’s mind is working furiously to determine what she means by that. 

Because surely Kara can’t think the gunman had followed them here. 

All the way from Metropolis to the southernmost boundaries of National City.

 

“The DEO is the safest place to be right now, Kara.”

 

The DEO will be able to fix him. 

And regardless, he’ll heal better away from all of this kryptonite.

Because even if the bloodied neon pellets crunching beneath her feet are out of his body, that doesn’t necessarily mean that the devastating effects are null to him. 

Not necessarily null to Kara either. 

 

“No. You… you don’t understand. The DEO did this.”

 

And Kara says it with so much conviction, that Maggie might have believed her, if it wasn't for the fact that the alien shot Clark was already in custody. 

And the one who shot Alex had been killed on scene. 

Vasquez had run their prints. 

Both had lengthy criminal histories

Both had served multiple prison sentences. 

But neither had worked for the DEO. 

Neither had any contact with the DEO. 

Had never even blipped on the organization’s radar.

Other organizations however…

 

… … …

 

_ “This....” _

 

_ Winn is saying as he hands them the tablet. _

 

_ “This is the man that shot you.” _ __  
  


_ Maggie takes it from him. _

_ Holds it for Alex, who’s propped up on the DEO hospital bed.  _

_ The man on the screen is clean shaven. _

_ All angular edges, mottled scars, and muscular curves. _

_ And his eyes, a dark cold green, burn into her even when they hold no life.  _

 

_ “His name is Paul Reich. The other gunman is Henry Reich, his brother.” _

 

_ Winn says switching the screen to another man who shares the same distinct facial features. _

 

_ “According to the archives, they were affiliates of the D.M.T weapons coalition in the late eighties, before joining H.I.V.E in the nineties, but after that disbanded in the mid 2000s, they were relatively off the grid until recently, when they turned up on Lillian Luthor’s payroll.” _

 

_ Alex groans.  _

_ Winn nods.  _

_ Maggie sighs. _

_ Because of course. _

_ It always it had to be them. _

 

…. ….

 

“They weren't DEO, they were Cadmus. Mercenaries for hire.”

 

The detective counters cautiously, trying to explain things in a way that won’t agitate the blonde further.  

 

“No. No. They knew… they knew who Alex was, they knew where she lived and… and where Kal was…”

 

Tears cloud the superhero’s words. 

And when Kara turns toward her, standing to her full height, dwarfing the small detective, there is an accusatory, slightly panicked look in her eyes. 

Her trembling hands, held outstretched just in front of her, are soaked with the same crimson that covers Clark. 

Twitching every few seconds, as if she wants to close them, but something is telling her not too. 

And she realizes, that Kara must have been pulling the pellets out.

Pulling them out with her bare hands. 

 

“You don’t believe me…”

 

Kara accuses, steely eyes narrowing on the detective.

And the blonde’s declaration holds a degree of discontempt and underlying anger that the detective hasn’t had directed at her since they’d first met. 

Still, Maggie doesn’t waver from her conviction.

 

“Kara, think about it. Cadmus knows all of that too. Remember? They know who you are. And everyone knew where Clark was going to be, it was a public event.”

 

The blonde superhero sways in her spot, the kryptonite in the room evidently strong enough for both of the kryptonians to feel the effect.  

 

“Then tell them to leave.”

 

Kara orders, tilting her head toward the entrance.

Davidson looks at Maggie questioningly, leaning toward the door as if he wants to move, but unsure whether to follow Kara’s orders, or wait for Maggie’s own.

The caped crusader beats her too it.

 

“No, not you. Them. All of the D. E. O  _ agents  _ outside with their  _ kryptonite _ guns. I’m not stupid.”

 

Maggie swallows hard.

Knowing already that she has no power over the armed men outside.

 

“You know I can’t do that.”

 

And Kara turns sharply away. 

 

“I… I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t shoot him. I saved him! So why are they out there like I’m the bad guy?”

 

Frustration lacing the hurt in her tone as she moves closer to her cousin.

 

“They know you’re not the bad guy, but you have to understand what it looks like to them.”

 

Because the DEO is a much larger organization than just J’onn and Alex. 

But with Alex down and J’onn on some intergalactic space mission, the two main heads of National City’s facility are gone, and chain of command had delegated control to the floater faction from Midway City.

And though they acknowledged Supergirl as a distant ally, they still saw in black and white. 

Saw things in the way they wanted it to be seen. 

 

“It looks like you’re withholding medical care. It looks like you’re holding him hostage. He needs the sunlamps Kara, you know he does. You do too.”

 

Kara flits between the detective, her cousin, and Davidson. 

 

“Kara, you have to trust me on this.”

 

Maggie begs.

Because she does know one thing. 

If Clark dies here, on a couch in the middle of nowhere, instead of old and gray haired with Lois on a porch in Kansas somewhere, Kara will never forgive herself.

The blonde had a nasty habit of taking other people’s trauma’s as her own. 

For a long moment, neither of them say anything. 

And the tension is so strong she’d have to take a hacksaw to it.

 

“You’re sure? That it was CADMUS?”

 

The blonde asks finally. 

 

“Positive.”

 

A click vibrates in her ear. 

Far too loud to be anything in the empty room. 

Maggie looks back to Davidson, who's suddenly on guard again.

Upright, weapon in hand. 

He's heard it too. 

They're out of time.

And no. No she told them not to do this. She told them. 

A whistling sound pierces the air and Kara's hand shoots up, barely a blur of skin and blue, to her neck.

Pulling away the green tipped anesthetic that never made impact.

Maggie watches her examine it, realize what it is, and for a fleeting moment sees the fury in her eyes as she lets it drop to the floor.

But when the blonde’s shoulders deflate and their eyes meet, it is dejected sorrow that dominates her expression. 

 

“They aren’t going to let us fly out of here, are they?”

 

Maggie swallows hard.

 

“No.”

 

… …. … ...

 

The ride back to the DEO is awkward.

As soon as Kara carries Clark out, under the watchful eyes and metal incentives of twenty DEO squad agents, the more famous cousin is immediately put under the portable sun lamps. 

And after Maggie doesn’t hesitate to lay into the sniper that fired the anesthesia bullet, they are granted permission to stay with Clark in the back of the transport van that will shuttle them back to National City’s DEO facility. 

And after a lengthy argument with Control, Maggie and Kara are subsequently given permission to stay with him alone. 

Kara, for the most part, is silent.

Cross-legged on her seat, elbows on her knees, bloodied hands out stretched, staring morosely at Clark’s still unmoving form.

The blonde refuses to wipe his blood away from her hands.

The detective thinks Kara’s doing that as some kind of morbid reminder. 

Obviously blaming herself.  

And the detective wants to say, don’t chase the rabbit.

Don’t follow those dark thoughts.

Because there’s always a point in which the darkness will refuse to relinquish its hold. 

She wants to say this, but she doesn’t.

Kara has completely shut herself off.

Has made it very clear that she isn’t looking for anyone’s sympathy.

So Maggie lets her sit there, alone with her thoughts, in lack of better words.

Until the blonde is ready to talk herself.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Kara whispers softly. Brokenly. 

Drawing the detective’s attention away from her thoughts.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

The detective laments.

And really it is, she would have gotten angry too, in the heat of the moment.

 

“No… It’s r-really not.”

 

And in that moment Maggie sees Alex in Kara.

Sees it in the way they are both eager to put the blame on themselves. 

 

“Kara. It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize.”

 

The silence reigns for a few moments longer.

And Maggie watches Kara wage an inner war with herself.

A war in whether remain quiet or speak the words she wants to say.

 

“It was Alex or Kal, Maggie.”

 

The blonde’s words are twisted and heavy.

Palpable with shock and grief.

 

“You don’t have to do this now, Kara… We can debrief at home base.”

 

Maggie says gently. 

But the Kryptonian shakes her head, raising her hands to wipe the salt from her eyes, streaking a bloodied line across her face, gaze never wavering from her unconscious cousin. 

 

“ It was… I had… I had to make a choice, Maggie. I had to make a choice.”

 

The detective doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t try to stop her.

Because if this is what the blonde feels she has to do, get things off of her chest, then Maggie is in no place to tell her to bottle it up and wait.

Both Danvers sisters had been doing a lot of that lately.

 

“They were going to shoot them. And they… And they… They made me choose one or t-the other. Between my... my sister and my c-cousin.They made me choose... But Alex is human, Maggie. She’s human and she doesn’t heal. So I… I had to choose Kal. Because he can heal, Maggie. He can heal. But then he w-wasn’t. A-and… and then they shot A-Alex anyway.”

 

Kara sounds shell-shocked as she rambles.

Sounds horrified now that she’s saying it all aloud.

And Maggie silently agrees.

It’s a horrifying choice. A difficult choice. An impossible one.

 

“What am I supposed to do, Maggie? What Kal is going to think? I told them to shoot at him. And then I didn’t even… even take him back to the DEO. Because I thought… I thought… I was so stupid. Rao! Rao...” 

 

Maggie straightens 

 

“Kara, look at me.”

 

The detective orders softly. 

And when the blonde lifts her head from her hands, and finally turns to look, her expression is tortured.

Eyes had frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth.

Devoid of the anger. Devoid of the sadness. Completely filled with guilt, self-doubt, worry.

 

“Kara, you didn’t tell them to shoot Clarke and you didn’t tell them to shoot Alex. They were going to do that regardless. It isn’t your fault.”

 

Kara gives her a dubious look.

And Maggie can see she doesn’t entirely believe her.

… … …. …. 

 

Kara stumbles after Clark’s body like a fly to light.

Frets over the wires. 

Frets over the bulbs.

Follows him off the van and into the DEO like a zombie, oblivious to the looks the agents in the facility are giving them.

And Maggie follows the blonde like a shadow.

Ready to do whatever Kara might need, until the only person who can really help is there for her.

And Alex has seemingly already thought ahead.

Because she is waiting for them in the trauma bay normally reserved for Kara. 

Standing in crutches with one arm in a sling.

The elder Danvers presence is all it takes for Kara to detach from Clark.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

Kara is whispering, tears flowing freely now, gangly arms flowing around her sister’s body.

Pulling her into as tight of a hug as she can manage without snapping her sister in half.

Maggie’s heart warms at the sight.  

 

“It’s fine. It’s fine.”

 

Alex is whispering back into Kara’s blonde hair as the blonde continues to cry.

The sisters stay there for a moment, and Maggie is unsure if she should stay or leave.

Then Alex looks over her sister’s shoulder at the detective, eyes portraying all the gratitude Maggie could ever deserve.

 

“It’s fine. It’s fine, Kara, Come on, Maggie and I are going to get some of this blood of your hands.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Whelp.
> 
> I guess I should really get back to One More Step now, huh?


End file.
